I don’t think I’m cut out to be a school mom. (Probably not cut out to be a homeschool mom either, so I’m not sure where that leaves me.) I only have one child in school. Just one itty-bitty kindergartner who only goes half-day. I mean, really, how complicated can that be? She’s six years old and one of those responsible firstborns. But her mom is, shall we say a relaxed third-born? And that’s where we run into problems.

First off, there is homework. Homework has due dates, and I have challenges with due dates. I find them hard to keep in my brain. I must confess that on more than one occasion the “relaxed” adult has been found dragging the responsible kindergartner out of bed early on the morning of said “due date” to do the homework that was assigned seven days ago. And if that isn’t bad enough, the last two weeks, I completely forgot about the homework and the due date. It’s rather embarrassing when the note to your child’s teacher is asking for mercy for you and not the student.

It’s not just the homework that causes me trouble. Last week I sent Caly to school with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, all the while forgetting about the little boy with the peanut allergy in her class. Caly told me that he sneezed during the entire snack time. The teacher very kindly told my daughter that “adults just forget things sometimes.” That’s a nice way to put it.

And today, I find myself in yet another kindergarten jam. Caly’s book that she checked out from the school library is missing. As looking under beds and inside closets has yet to yield the missing book, a fear that I have been working hard to ignore is quickly becoming a reality. I think I might have returned the book to my local public library. Mrs. Keeler, if you are reading this, I want you to know that I will not rest until I locate Three Billy Goats Gruff somewhere in the Montgomery County Library system and return it to your beloved library shelf!

The good news in all of this? The school year is almost over! Three whole months where I can walk around guilt-free. And for those of you that may be seriously concerned about me by the end of this post, let me just say—you probably should be.